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“I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain-edge will grow light. Till then I see what’s really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die.”

— Philip Larkin, from “Aubade,” The Complete Poems of Philip Larkin, ed. Archie Burnett (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2012)

bironism:

image

— Philip Larkin, in a letter to Monica Jones (1968)

#same thing different vibes
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